


Number Ten

by Thefanfictor



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Arguing, Attempt at Humor, Canon Era, Duelling, Fear, Gen, Guns, Historical Accuracy, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical References, Introspection, Musical References, Shooting, Song Lyrics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-08 14:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11648733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thefanfictor/pseuds/Thefanfictor
Summary: "Ten Duel Commandments" from John's POV.  Just my wondering what he might have been thinking throughout all this drama.  Can be taken as shippy.  Or not.  Enjoy, y'all.





	Number Ten

**Author's Note:**

> I know nothing about guns. All song lyrics and assorted musical stuffs belong to Lin-Manuel Miranda. All history belongs to itself. All other inaccuracies are the fault of the author alone, etc., etc.

_One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine . . ._

_One: The challenge, demands satisfaction_

John Laurens has just challenged Charles Lee to a duel.  He can't stop shaking.  He's really going to do this.

He feels a hand on his shoulder, a voice congratulating him.  Lee doesn't back down.

_Two: Grab a friend, that's your second_

Alexander squeezes his hand and flashes John one of his dazzling smiles.  "You'll be fine," he says by way of reassurance.  "I'm not gonna let you get hurt."

John laughs, knowing there's nothing Alexander can (or will) do to protect him, but appreciating the words nonetheless.  Still, he's on his own.

_Three: Have your seconds meet face-to-face_

John is watching Alexander and Burr talking across the field, the former waving his hands the way he does when he gets worked up.  No doubt he's telling the other man how Lee insulted Washington's honor, and by extension John's honor, and Alexander's honor, and the other soldiers' honor, and their parents' honor, and America's honor.  Burr just looks like he wants the whole thing to be over.

Deep down, John knows this is Hamilton's duel, not his.  But he'll fight it for him anyway, because there are some battles that even Alexander Hamilton has to stay out of.

The peace talks fail.

_Four: Time to get some pistols and a doctor on site_

As the challenger, John provides both the guns and the medic.  They make everything seem more real somehow.  Like this is actually going to happen.

The doctor frowns at him as John explains.  "I hope you boys know what you're getting yourselves into," he says.

John hopes he does, too.

_Five: Pick a place to die where it's high and dry_

They pick the battleground: a hill, far enough from camp that no one will find them.  John feels cold.  This could be the last place he ever sees.

_Six: Leave a note for your next-of-kin_

John Laurens is writing his will.  Alexander stands, reading over his shoulder.  If things go wrong, he'll be the one to deliver it.

The quill scratches the letters  _M-a-r_. . . he scribbles them out.  Nobody needs to know about her, not if he can help it.  Hopefully, this letter will never have to be sent.

_Seven: Confess your sins, ready for the moment of adrenaline_

The duel will take place in minutes and both participants are praying for sins known only to themselves.  John's eyes are closed.  His lips move, but no sound comes out.  He doesn't think he could make himself speak.  He doesn't try.

_Eight: Send in your seconds, see if they can set the record straight_

John feels the cold metal of the gun in his hand.  It's about the only thing he can feel right now.

Alexander and Burr meet for the second time in the middle of the field.  They're talking, but all John can focus on is Lee on the opposite side, sharp eyes boring into him.

John's hands are trembling.

_Nine: Look him in the eye, aim no higher, summon all the courage you require, then count .  .  ._

They pace off.  John grips his pistol, blood roaring in his ears.

John Laurens does not want to die.

_Ten: Paces, fire!_

He squeezes the trigger, wanting to close his eyes but knowing he can't.

There is a shot.

**Author's Note:**

> Please comment and kudos, I need y'all to stay alive.


End file.
